Body glistening in the sun,
A sweat trickled down my face.
It's 8pm into the night,
Yet it feels like the day hasn't gone by.

My mind blanketed by a shroud of unconsciousness,
I'm staring at a tangled draft.
An obvious clutter in my view,
A pile of junk I presumed.

Anxiety was at an all time high,
The lights on the streets blurring by.
My lighted cigarette was the only thing I could see,
Yet with perfect vision,
I couldn't see the forward path.